


Cat Got the Cream

by Machiavelien



Category: Black Cat (Comics), Spider-Man (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Being Walked In On, Exhibitionism, F/M, Facials, Identity Reveal, Oral Sex, POV Female Character, Porn with Feelings, Public Sex, Spiderkitten truther
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:47:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25649038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Machiavelien/pseuds/Machiavelien
Summary: Felicia reminisces on her hot but short-lived fling with Spider-Man, and her surprise score at the end.Based on the PS4 game/Heist DLC and Black Cat Strikes comics.For PeterFelicia Week 2020 -- Day 4: Heists
Relationships: Felicia Hardy/Peter Parker
Comments: 17
Kudos: 104
Collections: PeterFelicia Week 2020





	Cat Got the Cream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [justmattycakes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justmattycakes/gifts).



> [ Spotify Playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/54EWJvgonD32SKlOLcJtJB?si=Cp6VqzMyT1WUgRSFOxbafw)

“How many times are you planning on saving me tonight, hero?” asked Felicia, her heart fluttering in her chest.

“As many as it takes, I guess,” replied Spider-Man, his arm still wrapped securely around her waist as they swung away from an enraged Kingpin, high above the city streets.

His voice sent a tingle down her spine, and the heat from his body seared into her everywhere they were touching, right through their skin-tight suits.

She was in the middle of pilfering some cash and gems from a collateral safe in Fisk Tower when the famous masked vigilante had stumbled in, just as Willy Fisk himself came barging in. Before any introductions were made, Spider-Man intercepted Kingpin as he charged at Felicia and took the brunt of Fisk’s meaty punches while she made her escape through the window.

She'd been keeping an eye on Queens' superhero savior in the news for some time, but that was the first time they’d crossed paths in person. Spider-Man fought as hard and fast as he did on television, and she wondered if he was also as deviant and wicked as the Daily Bugle claimed.

She sure hoped he was.

They'd made it halfway uptown, with Fisk Tower barely visible anymore.

Walking her fingers across Spider-Man's shoulders, Felicia snaked her arm around his neck and said in his ear, “Know what’s sexier than a guy who can keep up with me?”

“Uh…”

“Absolutely nothing,” she replied, giggling. She almost felt bad about what she was about to do.

Spider-Man jerked his head up and around, as though he'd just heard an alarm. “Wait, what’s so funny?”

“You are.” She let go just before he crashed into the building’s glass facade and launched off his back in a somersault.

“For the record, I meant what I said,” she shouted back, her ponytail whipping in the wind. “Until next time, Spider—” she blew him a kiss “—keep up.”

**===**

“That was some serious feline flirt and flee,” a familiar voice called out, echoing in the vault.

“I know right?” Felicia replied without turning around, still inspecting the light shimmering off her prize: a pristine one hundred carat turquoise diamond. Gorgeous.

Spider-Man landed on the ground behind her and came closer, the heat radiating off of him in the coolness of the dark vault. “But I want you to know that I’m usually not so gullible.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” she said, whipping around to face him and dropping the diamond into her duffel in one fluid motion.

“Seriously, I’m emotionally vulnerable right now,” he said, then lunged at her. That’s more like it.

“Around me, who isn’t?” Felicia hopped backwards on her toes effortlessly, then viciously swiped at his face, taking off a swath of red fabric with her claws and exposing his mouth and jaw from the nose down.

Spider-Man stumbled back, holding his face where she’d nicked the skin, but continued, “I mean, I just broke up with the love of my life because I couldn’t be Spider-man and the kind of guy she deserves. Not at the same time.”

Was he trying to distract her, or was he really vomiting his feelings all over her right now?

“Okay, this conversation is making me feel weird,” said Felicia, sliding a reinforced suitcase out of an open deposit box. “But here’s a little unsolicited advice.”

Swinging the heavy case around, she whacked him in the face with it and the momentum sent him flying to the ground across the diamond vault. While Spider-Man tried to get back on his feet, spitting blood, Felicia lept for the exit in the ceiling and grabbed a lift cable, and began climbing.

“If your girly thinks she deserves better than Spider-Man, then you’re better off without her,” she called back down as she pulled herself to the rooftop. “I mean, come on—what’s more fun than this?”

She yelped when he webbed her arms to her torso, completely restraining her in a tight bind, and the Black Cat fell to her knees from the impact. But she didn’t let go of the duffel, just glared at his red mask as Spider-Man came stalking towards her.

“Spider-man swinging my way on a dark rooftop,” said Felicia, panting as she looked up at him, struggling against the webs, “is how some of my favorite dreams start.”

He reached out to help her up, but in a blink of an eye, the Black Cat was back on her feet, and the webbing was falling around her in tatters, shredded by her claws.

“Dream Spidey’s always fast enough to catch me, though," Felicia sighed, shaking the last of the webbing off her curves. “Better luck next time, I suppose—”

Before she could finish, Spider-Man webbed her bag and yanked it out of her grip, and she couldn't help the impressed little gasp that escaped her mouth.

"There's more than one way to skin a cat," Spider-Man said, waving the diamond at her. When she tried to snatch it from him, he threw the gem up into the air and caught it before she could get to it.

Annoyance flared up in Felicia, unused to being outmaneuvered, but a competitive urge burned in her belly, and she made up her mind to knock this Spider-Man down a peg—and get her loot back.

Felicia came sauntering back towards him, running the tips of her claws across his chest. Eying the way he abandoned the diamond in the duffel bag again, she slid herself up against him to separate him from the bag.

“What are we doing exactly?” he grunted, voice tight, but his hands came around onto her hips.

“You tell me,” Felicia replied, biting her bottom lip and fluttering her lashes at him.

She was no stranger to flirting with powerful men, but she'd never been this close to Spider-Man before—and he was faster and stronger than she had imagined he'd be.

Her heart was about to pound right out of her chest; he's so close and he has his hands on her. They're all alone on this rooftop and no one's looking for her: he could do anything he wants to her right now.

He was the one that kissed her first, pressing his lips against hers, then slipped his tongue into her mouth when she kissed him back. Their bodies rocked against each other until Felicia ended up on top of him, straddling him around the waist, her hands flat on his hard chest.

"This is a terrible idea," Spider-Man murmured against her lips, but his hands are greedily roaming her backside and grabbing at her all over.

Nothing got her wetter than a writhing man beneath her—except a hundred million dollars worth of diamonds waiting three feet away for her, and she's got both right now.

"The worst," Felicia purred, feeling him harden against her leg through their spandex, and slowly unzips her suit.

**===**

Felicia used to have a theory that Spider-Man was actually multiple men who took turns wearing the suit—it was the only way to explain how he could always recover so quickly between fights and still have the energy to go a few more rounds.

She would fantasize about having all of them at once, of her body being shared among the nameless red-masked vigilantes. All alone, she'd be naked and vulnerable against all those big Spider-Men, their sturdy hands passing her around and each one taking their turn with her as the others watched.

It didn't take Felicia long to confirm that Spider-Man was actually just one ridiculously strong and superpowered guy after all—one guy who could single-handedly subdue a crowded room of armed thugs without breaking a sweat.

But Felicia would get him to sweat.

The first few times, they didn't even take off their masks—Felicia wouldn't let them. Closing her eyes, she'd try to imagine that an anonymous cock was fucking her dirty against the building, but Spider's grunts had already become so familiar to her she couldn’t think of anyone else.

Spider was relentless in everything he did, and _that_ got Felicia hotter than anything else. He never backed down and he never quit.

"I like a man who goes full throttle," she whispered in his ear.

"Huh?"

"Don't worry about it, lover."

Tossing her long silvery hair over her shoulder, Felicia got on her hands and knees so he could take her from behind, but he grabbed her by the hips and shook his head.

"No, I want you to look at me. Get on your back," Spider commanded, sending an exhilarating thrill down Felicia's spine.

Before she could even move, he flipped her over and held her arms down over her head, panting heavily beneath the red fabric covering his face, just inches from hers.

Nudging her legs apart wider, he pushed into her slowly and sweetly, and brought down a hand to cup her face.

Felicia could usually tell what kind of day Spider has had by the way he fucked her—like when he was angry and frustrated, or when he was wistful and missing the kind of sex that has feelings involved.

The way he panted _Cat_ over and over again made her shiver pleasantly, and she could almost believe that he wasn't thinking of someone else.

He lifted both of her legs up onto his shoulders and sank into her even deeper, drawing a throaty moan out of her, and he tried to kiss her, only to be reminded of the mask in the way when he got to her lips.

Felicia wrapped her legs around his waist and eagerly met each of his thrusts, but she could tell it wasn’t enough for Spider, not with their masks still on.

When Spider pressed his forehead against hers, trying to find some connection while their bodies moved of their own accord, all Felicia could think about was how he was inside her, raw skin against skin, and she'd never even seen his face before.

She preferred it that way, keeping the mystery of Spider-Man intact—the idea of him, not the actual man beneath the mask. Actual men were always such disappointments. No, it was better this way, keeping this affair with only the Spider, not whoever he was outside of the suit.

But he kept staring into her eyes through her goggles, that red-masked face searching for something that she didn't think he'll ever find, no matter how hard he looked or how hard he fucked her.

**===**

He'd already had her on rooftops all over the city, a few hotel rooms she insinuated were hers—and he knew better than to ask—and even in a webbing hammock once, suspended in the air.

But that night was different.

The white lenses of his mask widened in surprise when Felicia returned with her goggles in hand. She couldn't help but laugh at how fixated he was on her bare face, when the rest of her was naked and waiting for him.

"Your mask—"

"Shh, don't ruin it."

Keeping his mouth shut, Spider unrolled his mask up over his nose and head, then shook out his hair. Felicia bit the inside of her lip. He was cute, whoever he was.

His soft brown hair curled over his forehead, and his honey brown eyes peered at her in awe.

"Happy?" she said, putting her hands on her hips.

Spider stood up and strode over to her in two steps, and pulled her close to him. "Yes, very." He couldn't stop staring at her face. "You're beautiful, Cat."

"I know."

Up close, he looked younger than Felicia had imagined, with his smooth jaw and pretty boy lips. She ran her fingers down the side of his face and rested her hand on his chest.

"You're not so bad yourself, Spider."

He caught her wrist and held her hand against his chest. "You can call me Peter."

Felicia inhaled sharply, frowning. "I didn't say we could do names."

He shrugged and continued to take off the rest of his suit, and Felicia enjoyed the private show he was giving her. How many people can say they've witnessed the infamous vigilante strip for them?

Before long, he had his face buried between her breasts while his hands squeezed and groped her thighs. His muscles were rock hard, and his grip was rough, just like she liked it.

"Is this okay?"

"I'll let you know when it's not," she said, raking her nails through his hair.

He looked like the kind of guy that would be cast for a shaving cream commercial: clean-cut except for just enough scruff, handsome but also approachable, safe. The kind of conventionally attractive guy with a live-in girlfriend or wife who comes in at the end of the commercial, wraps her arms around his waist and kisses his freshly shaven face, all adoring and domestic.

But Felicia's not that kind of woman. She won't be there at daybreak, and she doesn't look so good in the harsh light of sobriety and responsibilities.

But for one night, she'd give him the girlfriend experience he was craving so badly. Seemed like Red did a number on him.

"Spider-Man, Spider-Man, does whatever I say he can…" Felicia hummed as she swung her legs over his waist to straddle him. "Now be a good boy and lie back.”

He was definitely younger than her, maybe just out of college— _god_ , she hoped he was done with college. So eager and pliable beneath her, he was a blank slate ready to be molded and instructed.

Most men only wanted to dominate and control—the usual need to compensate for some innate impotence, literal or emotional or psychological. But Spider revelled in the illusion of intimacy—of seeing her face and being seen himself. He wanted to be vulnerable with her, craved it maybe more than he craved her body.

He reached out to trace her cheek, eyes darting around her face, mesmerized. Her heart caught in her throat; she could tell where this is going, and she had to stop them before they got there.

Why did he have to want the one thing she couldn't give him?

Felicia knew that she could whisper his name—his civilian one—and that would drive him completely wild.

So she didn't.

Instead, she took him into her mouth and let him finish on her mask-less face, and she could tell how much he liked it from the way he stared, entranced by the sight of his thick white cum across her cheeks and dripping onto her chest.

That was when the hotel suites' inhabitants returned, and in a mad dash the two of them retrieved their suits, tugged back on their masks, and made their escape through the windows.

"That wasn't your hotel room?! Why didn't you tell me!"

"You didn't ask!" She hollered back, slipping out of Spider's attempts to catch up with her, like smoke twisting in the air.

**===**

“Felicia, I can’t do this.”

Peter ran his fingers through his hair, shoulders hunched up and tense. She found him brooding about her penthouse, pacing a hole in the rug while half-dressed in his suit.

Leaning against the doorway with a bottle of champagne in hand, Felicia said, “It’s cool, I’m tired, too. We can just cuddle—”

He pulled away from her. “Not that.”

“Oh good,” she sighed in relief, taking another swig of champagne. “I’m not _that_ tired.”

“No, I'm Spider-Man!” Peter exclaimed. He was frustrated, conflicted, red-eyed and filled with guilt. “I should’ve turned you in the moment we met. I didn’t because I’m a mess and because you’re you.”

 _Boring_. Peter got like this once in a while, his 'internal conflict' getting the best of him, usually in the morning when regrets and hangovers percolate to the forefront.

"And I like you, I really, really do," he sighed, rubbing his face with one hand, "and this is ridiculously fun despite everything, but I have a responsibility that I take very seriously. I fight crime.”

Felicia let out an exasperated little huff. He was seriously no fun in the daytime, but he was still hot as hell, especially when he was all riled up and feeling self-righteous.

“Come fight some crime now, then,” she suggested, crooking her finger at him and shimmying her shoulders. “You can turn me in first thing in the morning, promise.”

“Felicia. This isn’t a joke,” he said sternly, pulling his mask back over his face. “You’re great in so many ways, but you’re also a thief, and I have to sleep at night.”

"My goal's never been to help you sleep, lover," she replied, licking her lips. "Quite the opposite, in fact."

He frowned, ignoring her. “Return all of this stuff by tomorrow night, or I’ll be back to turn you in.”

Felicia rolled her eyes. Even though he's defused and de-escalated plenty of situations without force, Spider really was a terrible negotiator.

Turn in her haul, or he’ll be back? Behave or he'll hunt her down and make her?

His threats were all of her favorite games. Maybe he knew that.

With a deep sigh and one last look at her, Spider-Man leapt out of her window into the predawn darkness, leaving Felicia to finish off the flat champagne all by herself.

**===**

Without meaning to, Felicia started to memorize Peter's habits, from the smell of his aftershave and shampoo to the sound of his footsteps.

He was just so weirdly charming, and without her noticing, he had invaded and blurred the compartmentalized sections of her life. From Black Cat in the night time to Felicia Hardy the next morning, he even slipped into her life during the time in between, and suddenly days without him felt dull and empty.

“I just really love this view, but I’ve never been able to share it with anyone before,” she admitted, the wind whipping her hair around as they stood atop the Chrysler building. "But now I have you.”

“You do,” Peter agreed, putting an arm around her as they watch the pink sun descend behind the hazy New York skyline.

“And Chinese food,” she added, reaching for the takeout bag in his other hand.

“Too good to be true. This feels like a trap,” he quipped back.

“Does it count as a trap when you don’t want to leave?” she asked, voice softer.

"That sounds like the most effective kind of trap," replied Peter, planting feverish kisses on her neck.

“Wait, I have to say something first,” said Felicia, squirming out of his hold. “This weird chemistry of ours…” She paused and batted her lashes for dramatic effect, but was actually just trying to search for the right words, "...it feels great. You're the most interesting thing that’s happened to me in a long while,” she admitted. “And I don’t want that to be over yet.”

Peter hunched his shoulders up, tense but hopeful, the mask showing no emotion but his entire body giving him away.

“I don’t steal to get stuff,” Felicia continued. "I do it because it’s exciting. But you’re exciting, too. And if my thieving means you can’t sleep at night…” She put her hands on his shoulders, “...then I guess I won't steal anymore.”

His gloved hand flew up to the back of his neck, a nervous habit she’s also catalogued. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying let's do it your way. Teach me how to be a hero. Pretty please?"

Even though he still has his mask on, Felicia could feel his goofy grin radiating like a thousand watt bulb. But he says nothing for a good few minutes.

"Okay, now you have to say something,” she huffed. “Because that was embarrassing. And I can never tell what your face is doing under that mask."

"It's smiling," said Spider, tugging his mask up over his nose to show her. Even just the bottom half of his face was annoyingly cute.

**===**

From what Felicia had pieced together, it had only been maybe a few weeks since Peter's split with what's-her-face. But he and Felicia didn't really do much talking when they were alone together, which was just how Felicia liked it.

She had no interest in hearing about the so-called 'love of his life' who thought she was too good for freaking _Spider-Man_.

Felicia didn't care that he was still hung up on the redhead. In fact, the very idea of someone obsessing over her like Spider did over Red, that kind of emotional entanglement, made Felicia's skin itch, and she was glad for Spider's reluctance to talk about any of it with her.

 _Better her than me_ , Felicia thought.

She much preferred the parts of Spider she got—the fun and exciting parts, the dangerous side.

“Get off! I can’t see!” the Vulture cried out as he went plummeting toward the ground, weighed down by the Black Cat riding on his back.

Digging her thumbs into his eyes, Felicia hisses, “Yeah, that’s the idea.”

They both went careening into a storefront, but she leapt off before the final impact and gracefully landed atop of the metal debris pile formerly-known-as-the-Vulture.

“What was that!? You were supposed to wait for me!” Spider-Man chided her for almost crashing into bystanders while taking down Vulture.

“Done and dusted, Spider. I told you this kitty don’t need training wheels,” she replied proudly.

"Please be more careful, Cat."

"Say pretty please," she smirked, tilting his chin towards her with a sharp fingertip.

"Pretty please," he replied, humoring her.

"Heh, gross," she teased, hooking his pinky with hers as they turned to face the angry villain together. Her chest felt all full and warm and tingling.

"You'll pay for that!" Vulture snapped, lunging at them.

Spider-Man dodged the bladed edges of the metal wings and told him to simmer down, while Felicia somersaulted out of the way and back onto the sidewalk, nearly tumbling into _her_.

“Sorry about the close call, Red,” Felicia panted, still watching Spider and Vulture exchange blows in the air. “I’m new.”

"It's fine," Spider's ex murmured, glancing between Felicia and the fight happening above them, and pursed her lips into a thin line. Annoyance was written all over her face, as if running into Spider-Man was an inconvenience in her day.

“Every day with him is like this," said Felicia, throwing her hair back. “Exactly my speed. Never gets old.”

She took off before Red could respond, throwing herself back into the fray at Spider's side, and didn't look back.

The rush of victory afterwards kept adrenaline pumping through Felicia's blood, and she'd think for a split second that maybe she could really do this, that she could go straight and still get her thrills, become an overzealous do-gooder like Spider.

And he always made it so, so worth it.

After taking down the Vulture, they ended up on some rooftop, still in broad daylight.

"Cat, you were amazing! That right hook to stun him, then jamming his wings with—"

"Shhh… less talking, and more of that other thing you do," she said, cupping his jaw and guiding his face between her legs.

Pulling his mask over his nose, Peter kept praising her as he planted kisses along the inside of her thighs, telling her that she deserved to feel so good.

"Mmm,” she moaned, “I do, don't I? Show me what a good kitty I've been…"

Sighing luxuriously, Felicia arched her back and stretched her limbs like a cat in the sun, then tugged at his hair to steer his mouth to the right spot.

It was only a matter of time before she'd get bored with this game of playing vigilante do-gooders with Spider, but the way he'd look at her when she rescued some pathetic civilian, or tied up a criminal instead of injuring them, still made her feel a certain way.

But she did, however, miss the outrage and scandalized huff he used to give her whenever he caught her red-handed stealing something. His exasperation was matched only by his inner turmoil every time; not over letting her go—because of course he would—but whether he'd give into her 'one last time'.

"You seem tense," she'd tell him. "Want to… relax a bit before next patrol?"

**===**

Felicia wonders which time it was that got her in the end.

They were a bit careless from the very start, every encounter feeling spontaneous and inevitable at the same time. Their fling burned so hot and so quickly that everything felt like a fever dream, unreal and almost without consequences. Ever since that impulsive first time on the roof of the diamond vault, she had found it too easy to forget herself with him.

It could have been that lunchtime quickie they had on a construction crane, trying not to be seen by all those workers just below them. Or maybe it was that time Peter caught her ogling a display of royal jewels at the Met, so she distracted him with a stairwell blowjob and got carried away? It could also have been that time they had a revenge fuck atop the Daily Bugle's headquarters—Felicia's suggestion after another rude headline about Queens' favorite crime fighter.

Despite all the gadgets and gear he carried in that high-tech suped-up suit of his, Spider didn't carry condoms around—how adorable and stupid, Felicia thinks in hindsight.

He was usually good about pulling out in time, but sometimes they forgot—or she didn't try very hard to remember. It just felt so good having his thick hot cream inside her, and she took guilty pleasure in leaping across rooftops afterwards while his cum soaked her underwear.

As if he could somehow fill her with his goodness that way, imbue her with his _optimism_ and _integrity_ , so she could fake it a little longer and keep up the whole upstanding citizen schtick.

But if she were a betting woman, Felicia would guess that it was that very last night, when he found out she was still taking a cut off the loot from their superhero busts.

Spider was so furious that she really thought he'd actually break something, the way he was seething when he discovered her secret stash—in her secret penthouse.

Betrayal simmered in his eyes as he stared accusingly at her. “Were you just playing me the whole time?”

“Not the whole time, no,” Felicia shook her head, letting her long hair fall over her face. “I tried to go straight for real. Tried to sit on my hands while you let the cops haul off all this good stuff. Tried _extra_ hard.”

She told him that at the end of the day, she had to be her, just as much as he had to be him.

“You’re such a good hero, though. A natural,” he pleaded.

“Good at hopping around and kicking creeps in the face, maybe. But I’m not good like you’re good.” She cupped his jaw. “No one is.”

“That’s a cop out,” Peter countered, his voice getting hard, almost angry.

“Doesn’t make it less true. You’re an impossible standard to meet,” Felicia breathed.

_So why even try?_

The unspoken question hangs in the air between them, an admission of defeat on her part.

 _Sure was fun while it lasted though,_ Felicia said by spreading her hand on his stomach.

 _One last time_ , she told herself, untying her bathrobe with her other hand.

Felicia knew they couldn't last, it's not who they were. Could say they were _doomed_ , if one was being dramatic.

She wanted to make it work, though; she really did. Even tried playing superhero vigilante for a while—Spider's version of playing house—and it was fun while it lasted.

The rush of leaping across the city by his side, the crowd's adoration, the kisses and frenzied lovemaking in between pummeling bad guys and saving the day—Felicia could say with complete certainty that no one else has ever given her that experience, and no one else but Spider ever could.

But she always disappointed him in the end. That was the thing—they both knew what they were getting into, who the other person was, but he'd always forget and try to change her, and then the cycle would repeat. She'd leave, disappear when things started feeling complicated. He'd be angry with her for a time, but never long enough to turn her away when she came back.

“You’re a much better person than I am, Peter. I’m not being modest here, I don’t think I’m capable of that,” she smiled sadly, letting her robe fall over her shoulders and drop to the floor. “You just are, and we both know it. You’re also a superhero, and as much as I’m trying, I’m never really going to be one of the good guys like you or Captain America or the Fantastic Four. I’m just going to be me.”

"That's all I want, Felicia."

Peter reached for her hand but she shook her head. "You might think that, but it's not true."

What she didn't say was that she didn't _want_ to be one of the good guys, either. She didn't want to be anything but the Black Cat, no rules and no superhero code, just her and whatever she had her attention on at the moment.

Felicia wasn't looking for someone to fix her or save her. That was the truth Peter wasn't willing to see—she liked who she was, whether that was a thief or a vigilante, and she wasn't a bad girl looking to get reformed.

But he didn't know how to handle someone that didn't need to be fixed and didn't want to be saved.

Maybe Red was onto something after all.

"So what is it that you think I want?" asked Peter, stepping closer to her.

"More than I'm willing to give, lover," she replied, running her fingers through her long platinum locks before letting it fall in a curtain around her breasts.

There were too many feelings involved already. It was fun while it lasted, though, and Felicia had no regrets.

Pushing Peter onto the floor, she straddled him around the waist and knelt forward, her breasts hovering inches from his mouth. Reaching back, she wrapped her hand around his stiffness and guided it to her entrance. Then she slowly sank down with a soft sigh, committing each delicious sensation and detail to memory.

Moaning softly, she began sliding up and down his shaft, her eyes raking in the sight of Peter beneath her: the tight muscles contracting in his chest and stomach, his flushed face and open mouth.

His pleading eyes drifted from her face and down to her tits as they bounced to the rhythm of her thrusts. Spider was completely mesmerized, his face overtaken by a soft dreamy look that made Felicia feel a little too exposed.

So she began to ride him harder and grabbed his face to make him watch his cock as it disappeared into her and then reappeared, slick, wet, and throbbing, over and over again.

Her beautiful and _repressed_ superhero.

The way he was thrusting back made her arch her back and curl her toes in anticipation. The room was warm and her body, glistening and wet with sweat, clenched as she started to have a deep orgasm.

Savoring the telltale tingling that was building up inside her body, Felicia clenches herself around him and tries not to cry out. Just when she thought she couldn't take anymore, all the tension snapped and released like a giant coil springing throughout her body, shaking her to her very core.

Men say all sorts of inane things while they're inside her, especially as they're about to come, but this time it was Felicia that blurted out something stupid in the heat of the moment.

"Fuck... Oh fuck, I love you, don't stop, please don't stop," she panted, voice ragged and her long hair sticking to her sweaty skin.

But just like she couldn't keep the words from tumbling out, Peter couldn’t stop the hot waves rushing out of him. Gripping her hips tightly, he jerked his hips and erupted with a deep groan, draining every drop he had into her.

To this day she still isn't sure if he heard her slip of tongue. In her defense, her entire body was still on fire from getting caught with the loot and her subsequent fight with Peter, and when she felt him throb and swell inside her, Felicia's mind went numb and stupid.

Still throbbing inside her as he came down from his orgasm, Peter rocked her in his arms, his hard body heavy as it pressed against hers.

The suite smelled of sweat and sex, and she couldn't concentrate on anything except the hot cum gushing out of her when he pulled out.

But another aching need for release was building up inside her again, so Felicia whispered his name and took one of his fingers into her mouth.

Then she was on top again, riding him raw until he filled her with another load, and they fell asleep in a tangled mess of each other's limbs twisted up in the sheets.

===

"That was the night I got you, kitten," Felicia muses, nuzzling the baby's chubby little tummy and feeling how soft his brown wispy hair was on her cheek. "And you're the best prize of all, isn't that right, my scrumptious little man?"

She'd always have a bit of the Spider with her wherever she went, in the form of this sweet smelling bundle of giggles and pink cheeks—the only guy who could actually ever keep up with Felicia Hardy after all.


End file.
